Once upon a time in Gotham
by TheMorningGlory
Summary: An alternate universe in which Selina Kyle is not only Catwoman, but also a PhD student who is leading the occupation of Gotham against the rich elite. She finds Batman defeated in the rooftop of her rented house, and struggles to decide what to do with that broken Bat. Possible further stories of the same universe coming. I also added some new characters just to make things work.


Wounded. What the hell was that dude doing on a fucking rooftop? I mean, he was not any dude, at least not one of those I had to deal every night. He was Batman, the Batman, and he was looking like crap.

Shit shit shit. Where are the fucking meds, I thought while scrambling the mess in the basement. To be quite honest, I was not even sure if I should try so hard to save him. I had the mob on my back, two protests to organize (one in the suburbs of Gotham, the other to occupy Wayne tower) and a fucking theses to deliver in the next morning. That's what you get when you try to be Catwoman and a Women's Studies PhD student at the same time. That and a black bat on your roof.

Okay. Okay. This guy hasn't done anything bad to you. He is the good guy. You know what he is trying to do. You have been following his steps since he first appeared in that ridiculous army suit. You know he is not the type of guy who would catcall girls (ha ha). He is the type of guy who would help an old lady cross the street, and that's probably why you hate him so much already: there is no real difference between these guys. Not when they think they have control over a woman's body.

I had to laugh a bit. It had always been hard for me to have empathy towards males.

"Help..." he suddenly said. He was bleeding.

"Please… Help… Rachel… Tell Rachel..." Wouldn't that guy shut his mo… "Rachel..."

Rachel. Mom. How could he? Mom.

Those words woke me from what felt like a Prozac dream. Whoever that Rachel was, she was a force on his word that infected me. Rachel was the name of my mom. If I could save her name, maybe I could same some of her. Some of her memory.

I knew what to do. The training my sister gave me was enough to remove the bullet, stop the bleeding and make some stitches to help on the healing process. The guy was passing out. Calm down. Calm down. You know what to do, your big sis told you what to do until she got there. Breathe. Some morphin would be enough to calm those guy's muscles. Good, good.

He would have to go to the hospital, but no hospital would take Batman.

"Hey, I am here" said the young woman in blue clothing. "Who is your boyfriend?"

"He is not my boyfriend, sis. Now please, save this man's life. Not for me, but for Rachel."

"Rachel? For mom?"

"What the fuck, what are you waiting for?" I was just pissed, she was not really waiting. She had her emergency kit all set by the time I finished that sentence.

While Jean did her magic, I started going over the Bat's belonging. What a disappointment. No guns. Some razors, a knife, a belt. Some utility shit. Of course, money can buy any super power in this city.

"Hey Selina. I am done here. I gotta go back to my hospital shift. And do not call me ever again to take care of your boyfriend. He is hot, but he looks like danger. Take care and get some sleep."

"LOL." she knew I wasn't over grad school yet. Why was she throwing that in my face?

She left.

Okay, he did look better. Good thing someone was talented in the family. Now I had to take him back. But back to where? I didn't want to violate his identity. I knew how important that was for anyone who tried to make something that does not stinks in this city. I would become a liability. However that man needed treatment, even against my will. Something deep didn't want me to let him die in my basement, probably the idea of having a dead body in my house.

I couldn't just get rid of him either, otherwise the rats would eat the bat alive. I kind of hated men, but he could be helpful.

I took a deep breath and took his heavy mask of. I almost threw up. There he was. Bruce Wayne, from Wayne Enterprises. That son of a bitch. I could've killed him right there, but that would only give strength to his company. He was a puppet. A beloved Gotham puppet. And these riches are no victims. I would not give this pleasure to the men who really ran the city. Our movement against the riches was already despised by many, and we could not be killers, not now.

I put on my mask, and my black suit. I threw his Batman clothing in a corner (some of the tools could be useful), and called a cab. Raymond was the only guy I could semi-trust in the neighbourhood.

"Are we going to one of your secret places, Ms. Kyle?" Raymond asked.

"No. Please help me get this man on the car." I was strong but Wayne was double my size.

"Sure. Did you have a good night?"

"Cut the shit Raymond. Just help me." He did.

"Where are we going tonight?"

"Wayne Mansion."

"You got a big fish back there, uh? You know girl, I care about you." He didn't. "Be careful with these men. I know you are pretty and intelligent, but don't let this guy mess around with you."

"Oh, this one won't."

The ride was smooth, or as smooth as it can be when you leave the periphery of Gotham to the elite, perfect places on the outside. There is a line that divides the poor and the rich. Capitalism is a bitch, and Bruce Wayne was going to pay, along his friends, for putting so many of us in misery. It was not the right time, though.

"Good night, Mr. Wayne", I said, while I dropped him near the entrance. His brown hair and angular face almost made him seem like a bearable person, almost. I still didn't understand why he was playing around as Batman, pretending to be a big hero, while the city kept falling apart. I saw him fall, in my roof, and he was going to fall again, this time as Bruce, along the people who could afford an expensive good night of sleep.


End file.
